


Almost

by shuhannon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Character Death, F/M, House Crylo, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tissue Warning, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 18:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuhannon/pseuds/shuhannon
Summary: Sometimes he wonders if it would just be easier to stop. To end things. Because then the pain would stop. Then the memories would stop replaying in his mind. Because even though he would be dead, he would be with her.* * *rey passes away and ben has a hard time trying to move on.





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS! there’s a very brief mention of suicidal thoughts and a major character is dead.
> 
> i suppose i’m earning my crylo badges with this one, huh?
> 
> this literally came out of nowhere. a song came on spotify and the fic popped into my head. i wrote it out pretty quickly and it’s pretty rough/not really edited.
> 
> sometimes you just have to listen to a sad song, have a good cry and write about sad stuff.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182242012@N03/48334660807/in/dateposted-public/)

  
Sometimes I can't help blaming you  
For leaving me here, what am I supposed to do?  
There's plenty of women, there's drink and there's drugs  
But we both know that won't be enough  
'Cause I see you in the daytime, and I hear you at night  
There's a pale imitation burnt in my eyes  
I don't want to be here, I don't know what to do  
Sometimes I'd rather be dead, at least then I'm with you

‘Amen’ - Amber Run

  


Sometimes he wonders if it would just be easier to stop. To end things. Because then the pain would stop. Then the memories would stop replaying in his mind. Because even though he would be dead, he would be with her.

* * *

He still sees her. It’s been two years but he still catches the sight of brown hair from the corner of his eye. He swears he hears her laughing in a crowded room; the same laugh that would cause her freckles nose to wrinkle and her arms to wrap tight around her torso as if she was trying to hold herself together.

Ben should have held her together. Ben should have been there. Should have saved her.

And sometimes he knows, he  _ knows this is all a bad dream.  _ He knows he’s going to roll over in bed ( _ their bed _ ) and he’s going to feel her body, warm and curled up, her back pressed to him. And he’s going to be able to feel her. He’s going to be able to run his hands up her bare legs, and wrap his arms around her torso. He’s going to be able to thread his fingers through her hair and taste her skin. He’s going to be able to hold her. To kiss her. To fuck her. He’s going to be able to love her again.

* * *

The worst part of grief is the anger. Not just at the world but at her. As if she asked for this. As if she asked to die.

Because how could she leave him behind? How could she when things were finally going right?

He’s punched countless holes in the walls of their apartment (his apartment. His.) that he should just buy spackle in bulk. Except it gives him a reason to get out of the house. A reason to move, to be around people.

* * *

Ben was never religious. He grew up Jewish, more cultural than anything else.

Now he wonders about God. Because he wants there to be another life; an afterlife. He wants to see her again; to feel happy, to feel together and whole.

But how could there be a god? How could a god exist when so much bad happened? When there was so much hurt and pain and suffering? How could there be a god with a perfect heaven when the devil seemed to run rampant on the world?

Even if there was a god; even if there was a heaven, Ben knew he would not get in. Because there was too much anger in him. To much hate.

He hated her for going out that night. He hated her for forgetting to buy cat food and ignoring the way he didn’t insist more that she just stay home. Because BB had enough food for the night. Because Ben could pick up more tomorrow on his way to work.

He hates himself more though. For not going instead. For not taking her place.

Because Ben could die and the world would not bat an eye.

But Rey? Rey was destined for greatness. Rey was going to do good. Rey  _ was _ good.

* * *

Poe tells him to date. Poe drags him out for drinks with Hux and Phasma.

Finn and Rose stay home. Because they’re hurting too. Because Ben hasn’t spoken to Finn since he showed up at her funeral, late and wasted, and they ended up in a fight outside the church.

So Poe thinks he needs to try and move on, that Rey would want him to move on but it hurts too much. Because every woman he meets reminds him of her and yet is nothing like Rey at all. They pale in comparison and eventually he just keeps drinking. Eventually he takes whatever pill Hux slips to him, and then he takes two more.

Then he feels… he feels nothing and it’s pure bliss. He can get lost, can take some stranger home. He can kiss and touch and fuck all the pain away.

Except then a memory hits. One of her; of them. Usually it’s something trivial; something small. Like the way she hated peas or her habit of purchasing too many scented candles, candles that they never used.

Or the way her hair would smell fresh from the shower, like citrus and ginger and something sweet.

Or the way her lips would look when wrapped around his dick. The way her hazel eyes would glow, a mischievous glint as she stared up at him, trying to take him whole.

And then he will close his eyes. Ben will keep his eyes so tightly shut and he will pretend. He will pretend it’s  _ her _ underneath him. He will pretend it’s her lips that he is kissing. He will pretend that it’s her body moving against his. And sometimes if Ben tries, if he really focuses and he tries he will feel peace. He will feel like himself again and this stranger, this girl from the bar will almost feel like  _ her. _

The guilt would kick in the next morning along with the hangover.

The girl would leave. Ben wouldn’t even bother to lie about promising to call.

When the apartment was empty and he was once more alone, he would curl up on the floor. His body would shake and the tears would begin to fall.

Ben didn’t even try to stop them anymore.

* * *

“It will get better,” His mother tries to tell him, lips pressed together in a sympathetic smile.

She talks from experience. Because Han died two years before Rey.

Except it’s not the same. His parents had decades together. Had spent their entire adult lives together. Had a wedding and a family. Had a life.

What Ben would not give for just one more minute with her. What Ben would not do to see her one more time; to just touch her cheek and tell her everything will be alright.

Except it won’t be. It can’t be. Not without her.

“You should visit her grave. Talk to her. That helps.”

He doesn’t want to see where she’s buried. He doesn’t want to know that she’s rotted beneath the earth, trapped and alone. Rey had never wanted to be left behind. Oh the irony, because instead she was the first to leave them.

And he doesn’t want to talk to her. He can’t. Not without yelling; not without shouting and screaming and trying to let it all out. Ben is either closed off to it all; is sterile and detached. Or he feels  _ too much  _ because he feels it all at once. It’s overwhelming. It hurts.

When’s it going to stop hurting?

* * *

The pain never stops. It’s always there; a fresh wound refusing to close. There’s no scab, no scar. Ben would be too lucky for that.

But there is time. 

Time. If only Rey had more time.

Except she doesn’t. She doesn’t but he does.

So he tries to do what she would want.

He sells the apartment. It’s haunted; filled with ghosts of her that he both so desperately wants to cling to and also wants to let go.

He quits his job. She hated his job; hated his boss and his work.

Ben tells everyone that he’ll be back. That he needs space and time and every cliche grief buzz word that will get everyone off his back.

He packs up a bag. Just one. That’s all he needs. And he packs up the cat. Not to take with him, no. Because the cat hurts just as much as the apartment. No the cat gets dropped off with Poe and Finn. Because Rey would like that; would think it was good for their relationship. She would tease them; would say that BB is their surrogate child.

It was the same things she had said to Ben when she showed up one day after work, a round chubby orange kitten in her arms.

Ben doesn’t tell anyone where he’s going. To be honest, he doesn’t even know. But Rey had always wanted to travel. Had always wanted to see the world. 

Now she can’t. 

So Ben will see it for her. 

**Author's Note:**

> all comments/kudos are appreciated! ♥️
> 
> feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/shuhannon)


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